The Secret Play (Pucking Daddies #3)

15. Casey

Chapter 15

Casey

T he hook-up with Gemma in my office had been, without question, one of the most exhilarating moments of my life. Not just because it was physically intense—though it absolutely was—but because of what it represented. Her choosing me, reassuring me with words and actions that I didn’t need to worry about the younger guys on the team. That connection felt real, solid, and I wanted to trust in it.

For a while, it worked. It silenced that part of me that doubted everything, that worried I wasn’t enough for her. The age difference didn’t feel so insurmountable when we were together. It wasn’t even noticeable when it was just us. The way she had looked at me after, her lips slightly swollen from our kiss, was like a balm for every insecurity I’d ever had.

But Winnie kept creeping into my thoughts.

That kid was something else. She was sharp, quick on her feet, and bursting with a kind of restless energy that reminded me of someone I knew all too well. Myself. It wasn’t just her personality that gnawed at the back of my mind. It was the birthmark. That oddly shaped café-au-lait spot on her shoulder had lodged itself into my thoughts like a splinter. It wasn’t identical to mine, but it was close enough to make me pause every time I thought about it.

And then there was her face.

Winnie didn’t look like me. She had Gemma’s warm brown eyes and her hair, but there was something familiar about her expressions, her mannerisms. Little things that caught me off guard—like the way she furrowed her brow when she was concentrating or the determined set of her jaw when she didn’t want to give up on something.

I knew that feeling too well. It was why her presence kept coming to mind.

And she ran hot like I did. Always taking off layers when convention said to leave them on. Hell, I never wore more than shorts and a fleece when I was on the ice. Sometimes less.

The timeline lined up. Winnie was four, almost five, which matched perfectly with the night I’d spent at the masquerade fundraiser. A night that had stuck in my mind ever since for reasons I hadn’t been able to articulate back then.

Until now.

The whole thing was odd. A series of coincidences, some might say. Plenty of people had those same traits. There was nothing to work myself up over.

But I couldn’t let it go.

I knew I needed answers, but I wasn’t going to get them from Gemma—not yet, anyway. If she was hiding something, I had no idea how to broach the topic without risking the fragile connection we were building. I’d told her the honest truth about us—I was terrified of screwing this up. Nothing would screw it up more than prematurely claiming fatherhood of her daughter.

That left Nico.

He would know things about Gemma that she wouldn’t necessarily think to tell me herself. If I could ask the right questions, I might be able to get the pieces I needed to put the puzzle together. But I had to be careful. The last thing I wanted was to make him suspicious.

The next morning, I called Nico into my office under the guise of discussing logistics for practice. He showed up in his usual relaxed way, still in his sweat-soaked practice gear, a water bottle in hand, and his easy grin firmly in place, dropping into the chair across from my desk like he didn’t have a care in the world. “What’s up, Coach?”

I leaned back in my chair, trying to project the same casual energy. “Nothing major. Just figured we should chat. With your sister hanging around the team so much, I thought I should get to know her better.”

Nico raised an eyebrow, his grin turning slightly amused. “What, are you vetting her?”

“Something like that,” I said, chuckling. “She’s been doing a lot of interviews, spending time with the guys. Just thought it wouldn’t hurt to get some context. I know she’s doing a bang-up job for our PR, so Whit likes her. But you know me. If anyone’s hanging around my team, I want to know them. Figured it makes sense to talk to you first.”

“Fair enough,” he said, shrugging. “What do you want to know?”

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “What’s her story? I know she just moved back, but why now?”

“Because of Winnie,” Nico said without missing a beat. “She was in LA for five years, doing her thing, but once my niece got old enough to start school, Gemma wanted her to grow up somewhere more stable. Atlanta made sense. I’m here, our dad’s here—it’s home.”

I nodded slowly, filing the information away. Five years. The timeline fit perfectly into the widening hole in my heart. But I kept my casual smile in place. “How’s she adjusting?”

“She’s doing great,” Nico said, leaning back in his chair. “She’s tough. Always has been. But I think she’s glad to be back. Even if she acts like she’s too cool for Atlanta, I know she missed it. It’s good for her to be around family again. I think the guys are warming up to her, too.”

“And Winnie’s dad? Is he here or LA or something?”

Nico’s grin faltered, and he shook his head. “That’s…a sore subject. Gemma’s private about it—she won’t even tell me who he is. I’ve learned not to push. All I know is he’s not involved, and she seems fine with that.”

“She’s never mentioned him?” I pressed, keeping my voice neutral.

“Not once.”

“You don’t find that weird?”

“That’s Gemma for you. She’s always been independent. Doesn’t like asking for help, doesn’t like sharing her burdens. It’s how she’s always been. Not that Winnie is a burden—she’s the greatest kid in the world. But it can’t be easy, the whole single mom thing.”

I nodded, though my mind was racing. If Gemma had never mentioned Winnie’s father, not even to her brother, it had to mean something. But what? “She looks familiar,” I said, testing the waters. “Is there any reason I’d recognize her? Have we met before?”

Nico tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “I mean, maybe? She’s been around town for a while now. Oh, and she came to that big masquerade fundraiser we did right before she moved to LA.”

My breath caught in my chest. “The masquerade?”

“Yeah,” Nico said, laughing. “You know, the one we all hated but had to go to because it was for the pediatric hospital? Gemma came to that.”

I swallowed, my brain blitzing from too many thoughts. “Why was she there?”

“She had just graduated, and I thought she needed a night of fun before she moved to LA.” He shrugged. “She’s not a party girl, but it’s always good to try something new, right?”

“Right,” I mumbled, still reeling as my stomach sank. “Did she tell you anything about that night? Did she meet anyone?—”

“Like I said, she’s a private person. I didn’t ask. But come to think of it—she wore some kind of mask, so I doubt you’d actually recognize her from that night. Why do you ask?”

My pulse hammered in my ears, and I resisted the urge to use the blood pressure cuff I kept in my top drawer since Mom’s heart attack. “Just curious. What kind of mask did she wear?” Don’t say peacock.

Nico chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, I have no idea. Do you think I was paying attention to stuff like that? It was five years ago.”

I shrugged and smiled to hide the fact I was about to freak out. “It’s like adult Halloween. Someone’s mask tells you a lot about who they are or who they want to be. Thought it might offer some insight.”

“Yeah, I always forget you go in for all that psychology shit.”

“Thanks, Nico. You’ve been helpful.”

He stood, stretching his arms over his head as he prepared to leave. “No problem. And, uh, go easy on her, all right? She’s good people.”

“I’ll do my best.” It was all I could do.

As soon as Nico left the office, I leaned back in my chair, my thoughts spinning in a hundred different directions. Gemma had been at the masquerade. The timing lined up perfectly—five years ago, right before she moved to LA. And she wouldn’t talk about Winnie’s father.

It couldn’t be a coincidence. Could it?

I closed my eyes, letting my mind drift back to that night at the masquerade. As parties went, that one hadn’t been too bad. I’d gone reluctantly, dragged there by the team for a good cause but fully expecting to be bored out of my mind. Whitney had been pushy like always, but it was for the good of the team, and her instincts were second to none. So when she told me to go talk to people, I did.

And then I saw her.

The woman in the blue dress and the peacock mask, the woman who had been unlike anyone I’d ever met. Confident, sharp, with a wit that had disarmed me within seconds. I’d been captivated by her in a way that had surprised me, drawn to her laughter and the way she carried herself. And her body. There was no denying that.

We’d spent the night talking, connecting in a way I hadn’t thought possible in such a short period of time. And when the night ended when we’d shared that one unforgettable moment of passion, I knew I’d never forget her.

But I didn’t know her name. She called me Red. I called her Blue. We had left our masks on the whole time.

Now, five years later, Gemma was in my life. Brilliant, beautiful Gemma, who had captivated me in the span of a brief conversation. Could it really be her? Could the woman who’d haunted my thoughts for years be the same woman who filled my days with light and warmth?

And if it was her, what did that mean for Winnie?

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I went through the motions of practice, giving instructions and feedback, but my mind was elsewhere. Scribbling in my playbook was pointless. I couldn’t stop thinking about Gemma, about the possibility that she might be the woman I’d been searching for all this time.

That night, as I lay in bed alone, the questions swirled in my mind, refusing to let me rest. If Winnie was my daughter, if Gemma was the woman from that night…what then? What would that change?

Would she tell me the truth if I asked? Would she even want me to know? I was just an anonymous party hookup back then, but what we had now was real. Could I risk it for the possibility of the truth?

I didn’t have the answers yet, but one thing was clear: I had to find them.

For her. For Winnie. For myself.